Identity Crisis
Last year, I decided to visit my therapist to understand why I was having a hard time adapting to situations that were out of my control. My therapist told me to think about my earliest memory where I felt out of control. I was transferred to the age of 4 years old. I was sitting in a car with a family member when said family member told me, “I don’t love you anymore.” My world shattered. What did I do? I thought this person was supposed to love me regardless. The person laughed, hugged me and said they were just playing. I eventually stopped crying and believed they still loved me, but it took 21 years later to realize the damage of that moment.
As I continued with therapy, it was easier to work through the remaining traumatic events because I knew where the initial pain originated. The revelations and the freedom I felt as a result from therapy led me to preach a sermon called, “Pluck it up by the root,” where I encouraged others to uncover the primary root of hurt so God can heal you. I didn’t realize that recognizing that moment of my youth would unveil a shocking truth about myself.
I don’t know who I am.
Being told I wasn’t loved anymore opened my eyes to the fact that at any moment, people can decide they don’t love you. They can decide you’re discardable. As a defense mechanism, I developed this need to be perfect. I needed to be the perfect family member, friend, girlfriend, etc. because if I was perfect, no one would leave me, no one would fall out of love with me – people would stay. As a result, I developed the toxic trait to people please, to dim my light so others could shine and to fade into the background where it seemed I was more appreciated. I chased the applause of people because I thought that is what validated me.
I sat in my room one night after delivering the sermon and as if I was looking at my life with new prescriptive lens, I realized the person I grew up to be was constructed by the negative and limiting beliefs the devil shoved at me. Fear, doubt and worry polluted the core of me and produced bad fruit. It produced a woman who was unsure of herself, a woman who believed she did not have anything to offer, a woman who plastered a smile on her face, but unknowingly, was in deep pain.
Unlike most of my blog posts, the story of this testimony is still being written. However, I am reminded of Jeremiah 1:5 (NIV): “Before I formed you in the womb I knew[a] you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”
In this season of my life, I am committed to learning who God created me to be, to discovering my identity in Him and to allow God to raise me. I’m trusting God with me and learning that He has already created the path…
